


Moonlight and Conversation

by flaming_muse



Series: Conjunctions [3]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Genre: April Showers Challenge, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-09-04
Updated: 2003-09-04
Packaged: 2017-10-18 06:52:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,955
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/186166
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/flaming_muse/pseuds/flaming_muse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Xander wanders through the cemetery. Alone. At night. Because he's dumb.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Moonlight and Conversation

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted to my LJ on September 4, 2003.

_Nothing dead should be so beautiful,_ Xander thought as he watched the vampire glide gracefully through the headstones. Silver-gilt hair shone brightly in the moonlight, and black leather billowed out around a slender frame. Xander was reminded of the movement of a great cat on the hunt, all focus and sinuous grace. It was lovely to behold from afar but unnerving when one was the prey. Tonight, he was definitely the prey.

Xander pulled the stake out of his back pocket and balanced his weight on the balls of his feet as the vampire stalked toward him. Her golden eyes watched his every movement.

"I'm friends with the Slayer, you know," Xander said, trying for cool and nonchalant but probably achieving something more like asking-Cordelia-on-a-date-in-front-of-her-friends nervous. "She'll be here any minute, so you might want to run while you still can. I'm just letting you know for your own good; it's hard to retreat when your legs are turning to dust."

The vampire ignored his banter - which he thought was improving, so that really annoyed him - and kept coming forward. He could see her fingers clenching in anticipation of sinking into his flesh... you know, before she sank sharper bits of herself into his flesh.

 _Why am I wandering alone through the cemetery again?_ Xander wondered. He slid slowly sideways, trying to put an especially large headstone between them, but she mirrored his movements. _Oh, right, because I'm a big idiot. Guess my dad was right all those years. Won't he be proud? Hope I kill him if she turns me into a vamp._

The vampire leapt forward and in an instant pinned him firmly against a mausoleum. He struggled and kicked, even getting a few good blows in, but he couldn't manage to get the stake up before she wrenched his head back and bared her teeth.

 _Those look really sharp_ , he thought as his last moments of life slowed down to a crawl. _I wonder if they'll hurt. I mean, getting that splinter out last week really killed, and I still can't believe Willow made Buffy hold me down. It would have worked its way out eventually, and there was no need to use those tweezers. I swear they were part of Giles' collection of torture devices. Paper cuts hurt too. Books are sneaky, looking all harmless, but they get you when you least expect it. The old ones are the worst; their pages are thicker and the dust gets in the wound. Maybe I can get Giles to pay for medical supplies. I go through a lot of bandages. Oh, right. Never mind. I obviously won't need them anymore. Hey, how come she's getting all fuzzy?_

Xander sneezed, and when the dust cleared he saw Spike glaring at him from a few feet away. The vampire slipped his stake into his duster pocket.

"You saved my life," Xander said in some amazement.

"Looks like."

"Uh... thanks seems a bit weak."

"Forget about it. Just toddle on home. I cleared out the rest of the cemetery earlier; stupid gits were making a racket, and I couldn't hear the telly."

Spike turned and began to walk off.

"Hey, can I buy you blood to thank you for keeping me from spilling mine? Or a beer?"

"Not big on gifts these days," Spike said over his shoulder. "I'm bloody tired of the strings."

"No strings. They're not my favorite thing, either."

Spike looked off into the night for a moment and then nodded.

"Could use a drink. Worked up a thirst saving your skin."

"Then the least I can do is buy you a beer."

They walked in silence to the Bronze, and Xander ordered them a couple of beers, thanks to his fabulous fake ID. His friends might laugh at the picture, but it worked.

Beers in hands, he and Spike leaned against the bar and looked out over the crowded room.

"Want to play pool?" Xander asked.

"Don't need your dosh. I met some blokes last night who play worse than you, so I'm flush at the moment."

"Yeah? That's why you live in a crypt with no running water?"

"Maybe I like the ambience."

"Maybe you like the free rent."

"Nothing wrong with being frugal, what with the price of blood being so high. It's criminal, I tell you."

"You know, you'd think the mayor would ask the butchers to keep their prices low; the murder rate in Sunnydale might go down," said Xander.

"Why pay for pig when you can get the good stuff for free?" Spike perked up. "Hey, d'you think that someone would pay me for _not_ killing people? Maybe the Watcher, or how about the police?"

"Somehow I doubt it. Being good is supposed to be payment in itself."

"Bugger that. A righteous glow won't keep me in blood and smokes."

"I thought you had plenty of money," Xander said. He waved the bartender over and ordered two more beers.

"It's not like I have a trust fund. I'll have to stop by the police department and see what they say. I'm doing 'em a public service."

"Actually, the Initiative's doing the service."

"Semantics. I'm still a vampire who isn't killing people. Going against my very nature. I deserve a reward," Spike said.

"How about Buffy not staking you on sight?" Xander suggested.

Spike blinked.

"I see your point."

"Besides, you're also now able to sit here and have me buy you beer instead of hitting me over the head with lab equipment and going thirsty. Isn't that reward enough?"

"Not bloody likely. More like a punishment. At least there was a satisfying crunch of bone the other way."

"Hey, pal, nothing's keeping you here."

Spike jiggled his bottle.

"Not done yet," he said.

They were quiet for a while. After another bottle of beer had been consumed in manly silence, Xander spoke up again.

"So, how's the crypt shaping up? You said you had a television. Does that mean you have electricity?"

"Yeah."

"Do you need any more help with anything? Wouldn't want you getting any ideas about moving back in with me."

"Like that'd ever happen. Got some new furniture the other day. Even got a proper bed. Can't tell you how uncomfortable that bloody sarcophagus was; it looks nice, I grant you, but it's hell on my back," Spike said.

"Yeah? I'll have to stop by and check it out."

"The bed or my back? Want to bounce on the mattress?" Spike licked his lips and leered at him. Xander could feel the heat rising to his face... and to other places that he was steadfastly ignoring.

"God, Spike. Why do you turn everything into some sort of innuendo? You can't bite me so you want to see if you can embarrass me to death? It won't work."

"Is that right?" Spike asked, leaning in closer. "'Cause you're all flushed over there, and I can hear your heart pounding. Is that fear I smell wafting over toward me? I think it's... hey, wait a minute." He straightened up. "That's not fear."

Xander flushed even more and set down his beer.

"G'night, Spike," he said and rushed toward the door. Mortification obviously added to his speed - or confusion took away from Spike's - so he was out of the club and down the street before the vampire caught up to him.

"That's not fear," Spike said again, holding Xander's left bicep just tightly enough to keep him from squirming away.

"What - you want me to be scared of you? I won't lie. You terrify the hell out of me. Happy now?"

Spike frowned more deeply and leaned in to sniff at Xander's neck. Xander felt goose bumps erupt all over his body.

"That's not mortal terror scared. That's embarrassment. Discomfort. Maybe some anxiety. But that's all underneath something else."

"Lemme go," Xander said, trying unsuccessfully to extricate his arm.

"You're turned on. I can smell it."

"There was a girl wearing -"

"You, Scooby extraordinaire, are turned on by _me_."

Xander closed his eyes and wondered why for once in this town something supernatural didn't come and interrupt things.

"Sorry," he said finally, still keeping his eyelids firmly shut. There was no immediate response, and the feel of Spike's hand on his arm was the only indication that he was not alone.

Xander peeked out from beneath his lashes. He didn't know what to expect, but it certainly wasn't Spike gaping at him.

"Look, I'll just..." He shifted his arm again, but Spike's fingers twisted more tightly in the fabric of his coat. The vampire seemed to pull himself together.

"You're not going anywhere." Spike's voice was a low growl.

"I'm not?" Xander was very proud of himself that he didn't actually squeak the words.

"I want answers."

"Forty-two? I seek the holy grail?"

"I want to know why you invited me for dinner when you came to my crypt. Are you that stupid that you thought that the invitation would butter me up to help the Slayer?"

Xander looked around for a roving pack of vamps or maybe a big snake or something, but there was only Spike. Staring at him. Waiting.

"I was trying to be nice. It had nothing to do with Buffy," Xander said. "Can I go now?" He tugged against Spike's grip.

"Not yet. Why did you think that I'd want to spend any time with you?"

Still no snake. Xander sighed.

"You had gone to the trouble of setting up that dinner for me, so obviously the thought of being in the same room with me wasn't so horrible that it wasn't worth the effort for the help with your crypt." He parsed that sentence in his head. "If that makes sense."

"Why would you want to be nice to me?"

Xander pulled harder.

"Look, I just did. I won't do it again. You're evil, you hate us, and you'll be sure to kill us first thing after you get your chip out. I get it."

Spike let him go, and Xander backed off a few steps.

"Right then. As long as we have that cleared up," Spike said.

"Fine."

They stared at each other for a moment, and then Xander turned away. He managed to take about three steps before his arm was seized again. Before he could say anything, cool lips were pressed against his own. When he opened his mouth to protest, Spike's tongue drove inside, tasting, demanding. Xander lost himself in the smell of old leather, the feel of Spike's lean body against his, and the incredible taste of the vampire in his mouth; it was better than he had ever imagined, not that he had ever thought about Spike in that way, 'cause he was straight and everything, but he was also a horny teenager, and Spike was so hot he crossed gender lines, and oh, god, what was he doing with his tongue?

Xander was breathless and incredibly aroused by the time that Spike pulled back from the kiss. He was also embarrassed to notice that his arms were wrapped about Spike's waist, and he quickly disentangled himself.

"What was..." His voice was hoarse, and he cleared his throat before trying again. "What was that for?"

Spike smirked.

"I'm evil, pet. Felt like it."

As Xander tried valiantly to wrap his brain around the fact that Spike had kissed him, the vampire lit a cigarette and blew a cloud of smoke into the cool night air.

"Thanks for the beer," Spike said. He took another drag on his cigarette and then brushed past Xander. As he walked away, he called, "Stop by my crypt any time. I'd love to see what you think of the furniture."


End file.
